” There was a moment’s silence. ” Sir John clutched at the table with both hands. What would happen to her? Would her soul be shaken, twisted, hypnotized?—as it had been those other times? Music—that took out of her the sense of reality, whirled her into the clouds, that gave to her will the directless energy of a chip of wood on stormy waters. Entering the workshop, he found the blacksmith occupied in heating the tire of a cart wheel.
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